


Chasing her Ghost

by JenniferHawke



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Drunk Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-14 00:03:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1245274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferHawke/pseuds/JenniferHawke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been years since she sacrificed herself, but Alistair has never forgotten Solona. He flees to Kirkwall to escape her painful memory, but an all too familiar face shows up when he least expects it. One shot. M for smut and mature content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chasing her Ghost

For years after Solona Amell’s death, Alistair wandered the streets of Ferelden aimlessly. He couldn’t stay with the Grey Wardens, duty be damned. Solona was the only thing he held dear, and since she was gone, everything that Alistair once was died along with her. He knew that becoming a Grey Warden would come at a cost, but holding her cold, lifeless body in his arms...nothing could ever prepare him for that. He lost his faith, his love, his desire to live. He became a drunk, roaming from town to town, half the time forgetting where he even was. He would frequent taverns for ale to numb the pain, and sometimes brothels, in search of a woman that would resemble Solona, even just a little, so he could try and forget that she was dead. It failed more often than not; the hired woman’s voice would be too high, her breasts too small, her demeanor not playful enough. He knew that if Solona were to see what had become of him, she would be utterly disappointed. The thought only made him fall even further into his despair, and thus the cycle would repeat itself. For years Alistair wandered, until he couldn’t take it anymore. There were too many precious memories of her here, so he boarded a ship with the little coin he had, and sailed off. Destination: Kirkwall.

Alistair wasn’t exactly sure what brought him to Kirkwall of all places, he was just content to get away from it all. The journey there was wretched, as storms rocked the ship back and forth almost the entire voyage. He almost thought the sea would swallow the ship whole. Alistair would have been too glad if that were the case.

He found himself in a shady part of town, looking for the bottom of a mug, when he heard boisterous laughter coming from around the corner. That’s when he spotted a tavern; the Hanged Man. Alistair shrugged at the name, and entered. The tavern was bustling with noise as Alistair headed over to the bartender. He ordered a glass of ale, as he handed over some coin. He stood at the bar, nursing his cup as his eyes roamed across the room. When his eyes stopped at the corner across from him, he choked on his drink, stunned at the sight before him

He was staring at a beautiful woman who could have been Solona’s twin. Same eyes, same smile, the only real difference was that her hair was shorter but even then, it was the exact shade of chestnut brown. Alistair was mesmerised, his mouth agape. She was sitting with a darker woman, who also seemed familiar for some reason or another, but that part held little significance to him right now. It was as if he was looking at his lost love, and suddenly Alistair could barely breathe. He turned back to the bartender.

“Do...do you know who that woman is over there?” Alistair asked, pointing.

“That’s the Champion of Kirkwall.”

“Champion?”

“You must be new around here. There was a Qunari attack six months ago. She saved the lives of many people.”

Alistair smiled. This woman shared another quality with his beloved Solona. He sat and stared at her for minutes on end, and observed her. She and her friend laughed and swapped stories, but even amidst her laughter, there was something sad in her eyes. Alistair would give anything to have the courage to talk to her, but he was a coward. So he downed drink after drink, hoping there would be some bravery at the bottom of his mug.

After an hour or so, the Champion’s friend left with a man who had captured her attention. Alistair watched the smile disappear from her soft features as she sat alone at the table, running her finger over the rim of her cup. This was his chance. Alistair drained the remainder of his drink, and approached her table, his heart thumping in his chest. As he stood in front of her table, she looked up at him with those ever-so-familiar blue eyes. His heart caught in his throat.

“Can I help you with something?” 

Maker, she even has her voice, he thought to himself.

“I...um...sorry...I was just..”

“Let me guess. You need me to find something for you, or wait, you recently had a run-in with a blood mage of sorts? Well, sorry. I’m off tonight, and I plan on getting sloshed before I get out of here. You’ll have to find someone else.”

“Oh..no, that’s not what I came over here for. You just...look like someone I once knew.” Once knew. Those words were painful to hear leave his own lips.

“Do I now?” The Champion asked, a smile coming to her face. Alistair swore he could have melted on the spot. Maker, she was beautiful. “Who exactly do I look like? And make it good. I could use a little pick me up.”

“Solona Amell. The Hero of Fereldan.”

She laughed softly. “Oh, of course. I’ve heard before that I look just like my cousin.”

“You’re...Solona’s cousin?”

“That I am, but you can call me Hawke.” She said, outstretching her hand. Alistair took it in his, shaking it gently. Her skin was soft and fair, just as Solona’s was.

“I’m Alistair.”

“The Alistair, who fought alongside with her?”

“The very one.” he answered, giving her a grin. It felt amazing to smile again.

“Well then, I should be buying you a drink. Sit!” she exclaimed, and Alistair couldn’t refuse. He took a seat in front of her, as Hawke waived the barmaid over. “Bring your very finest ale over for my friend Alistair here.”

“You know our ‘finest’ is the same swill you drink every night.” The woman answered Hawke.

“Oh, whatever. Just bring some more drinks.”

The barmaid brought another round, and Alistair brought the mug to his lips. “So, what is the Champion doing in a place like this?””

“What, you don’t like the decor?” she laughed. “Oh, I don’t know. I used to come here all the time before I was named Champion. Why change? I may live in the Amell estate, but nobility just isn’t me.”

“There’s an Amell estate here in Kirkwall? Solona never told me that she had family here.”

“I never met her. My mother was an Amell. She ran off with my father, who was an apostate. I only came to Kirkwall after the Blight. I fought in the battle at Ostagar, my brother too. We barely escaped.”

“Wow, you were at Ostagar, too? Huh. I didn’t realise there were other survivors.”

“Not many. Just got lucky I guess.” She shrugged. 

The night continued on, the both of them exchanging stories of battles and their companions. Of course with the two of them drinking, the questions began to get a little personal. 

“So tell me, Alistair; what was she like?”

“Where do I even begin?” he let out a sigh. “She was beautiful, but not frail. Deadly, but kind. She had a quick tongue, and an even quicker temper. I suspect you’re a lot like her, if I may be so honest.”

Hawke smiled. “Well then, I’m sure she was simply amazing.” 

Alistair smirked. “Yep. Definitely have the same witty remarks. Are you positive you aren’t her twin? I just can’t get over it...”

“I assure you, I’m not. If I knew you any better, I’d say you had quite the crush on my cousin.”

Alistair’s mouth went dry, despite having just gulped down some ale. He stared at the table, unable to speak.

“Ooh, I’m sensing a story. Tell me.”

“I...I don’t know if I can.”

“Please? I’ll answer a question you have about me first, to even the score.”

Alistair raised his eyes to Hawke. “I suppose that’s fair. Alright. I was watching you with that woman earlier.”

“Stalker.”

“Only the good kind.” He offered her a smile, and to his joy, she smiled back. Alistair continued. “I couldn’t help but notice that when she left with that...er...gentleman, you seemed a little down. Is she a lover of yours?”

“Isabela? Maker no!” She laughed for a moment, but when her eyes set on his, he could see a hint of that sadness that was present earlier. “Alright, it is only fair that I tell you. I’ve...not been myself for awhile. A little over six months ago, my mother was gruesomely murdered. It’s not been easy.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked..”

“No, no. It’s alright. It’s just something I never really ever have to talk about. Everyone in Kirkwall knows what happened.”

“Thank you for telling me anyway. I guess it’s my turn now?”

“That was part of the deal.”

Alistair took a deep breath. “Solona, your cousin...she was my...first...”

“You mean you and her were...?”

“Lovers? Yes. She was my everything. After she died I quit the Wardens. It was too painful to be constantly reminded of her. I just...I couldn’t...”

Hawke’s hand reached out, and squeezed his own. “It’s alright. You don't need to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

She was touching him, and speaking to him in that soothing voice Solona used when she consoled him about Duncan. Before he even realised what he was doing, Alistair leaped across the table, and kissed her deeply. She made a muffled noise against his mouth, and he tore himself away, which was one of the hardest things he had to do in a long time.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have...it’s just...you look so much like her.” he said in a broken voice, looking down. Soon he felt her hand on his cheek.

“I didn’t say stop. I was only surprised.”

Just as he went to look up to see if she was serious, her lips crashed upon his, her tongue hungrily seeking entrance to his mouth, which he admitted to her all too willingly. Hawke climbed across the table and sat in his lap, a few of the bar patrons whistling at them across the room. She pulled away breathless.

“Shall we take this back to my place?” She asked.

“Maker, please.”

 

Hawke wasn’t certain what made her invite this stranger back to her place, but she blamed it on the alcohol. That and the dread she felt each night returning to a near empty estate. Ever since her mother passed away, she stayed away from home as much as possible. She took extra jobs, stayed out at the Hanged Man until dawn, sometimes she would even sleep at Merrill’s, as uncomfortable as that experience was. When she saw the former Grey Warden looking at her with longing in his eyes, she knew she couldn’t be alone that night. They would both console one another in their own way.

As soon as she opened the door to the estate, she kissed him again. They did an awful lot of that on the way home. She even toppled over on top of him at one point, both of them laughing at it. Maker, it felt wonderful to laugh freely again. She grabbed onto his hand, and led him into her bedroom.

Alistair’s hands nervously fumbled at her robes, so she brought one to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “Allow me,” she said, as her hands worked at the familiar clasps, letting the garment fall to her feet. His eyes searched over her body, until they stopped at the birthmark above her navel. She suddenly felt a little self conscious, and covered herself. “Just a birthmark. Please...ignore it.” 

Alistair fell to his knees before her, removing her hand from the mark. “Just as she had,” he whispered, kissing it softly. Hawke wasn’t stupid, she knew why he wanted her, why he kissed her in the tavern. She didn’t care that he was chasing after some ghost. She just wanted the company, and didn’t particularly mind where or who it came from. Alistair hooked his fingers into the waistband of her small clothes, and looked up at her.

“May I?”

“You may.”

He gently pulled the garment down as she unclasped her breastband, letting it join her clothes that had pooled at the floor. His lips sought out her nub, gently kissing at the sensitive flesh in between her legs. She cried out as his lips wrapped around her.

“You always did like that,” he said quietly, and she almost stopped him altogether. It was a bit disturbing now, that he was pretending she was his dead lover, but she didn’t want to end up alone in her bed, so Hawke said nothing. Let him pretend if he will. 

Alistair pushed two fingers into her sopping wet entrance, as his tongue lapped at her as if she were his favorite treat. She moaned, her knees buckling from under her. She backed up into the bed, laying across it, as he followed her on his knees the entire way there.

“I am yours to command, as always.” he said gently. He knelt in front of her spread out form.

“Then keep licking.” she groaned. Alistair brought his mouth to her again, circling her clit with his wet tongue. He flicked his smooth muscle up and down, and Hawke’s legs shook from under his efforts. It had been so long since she had a mouth on her, she had almost forgotten how incredible it felt. He was so willing and delightfully submissive, a rare quality to find in a man. Hawke could feel her muscles clenching, and with a few more skilled licks, she came all over his tongue. A wordless shout escaped her lips, as she pushed his head further into her mound. He suckled at her essence, as if trying to draw out her orgasm as long as possible. She was too sensitive for his tongue now, and she lifted his head up to face her.

“Come here, and take those clothes off.” she said with a smile. Alistair rose, and removed his clothing as fast as humanly possible. He climbed in between her spread legs, kissing her with a passion she had never felt before. Hawke felt him position himself at her entrance, and slowly he sank forward. 

They both moaned in unison as his length stretched her. His face nuzzled into her neck, stilling himself.

“Maker, I’ve missed you so much,” his voice trembled. 

Hawke cupped his face, bringing her lips to his. “Make love to me, Alistair.” she whispered in his ear. “I’ve missed you too.” There was no real harm in indulging him in his fantasy, was there?

The former Grey Warden began to rise and fall within her depths slowly, the two of them sighing pleasantly at the feeling. The sounds of flesh on flesh echoed in the dark room. She wrapped her legs around his waist, forcing him to plunge even deeper. Hawke lifted her hips up and down, in sync with his movements. It felt incredible the way he hit that spot inside of her over and over again. For a moment, she forgot about everything else, how her very world seemed to be crumbling around her. Only for a moment though.

Hawke felt moisture trickle onto her chest, and heard quiet sobbing, the telltale signs that Alistair was crying.

“Shh.” she whispered, and ran her nails down his back.

“I love you, please. Don’t leave me again, Solona. I can’t live without you.”

Hawke bit down on her lip, completely dazed on what to do. She was not prepared to handle such a situation. She felt his lips against her again, and she welcomed the kiss.

“Please, tell me you love me.” he sobbed into her ear.

“I love you.” she lied.

“I want to hear my name.”

“I love you, Alistair.”

“Oh Maker,” he gasped, as he spilled his seed inside of her. Hawke let her legs fall to his sides, as his softening member slipped out of her. She had heard the tales of the Grey Warden infertility, so she wasn’t concerned. Alistair carefully rolled off to her side, and as she sat up to dress, he panicked. He pulled her in a tight embrace, squeezing her to his chest.

“Don’t go, my love. Please. I’ve only just found you.” he whimpered, and she felt his tears roll onto her cheeks now. “I’ve waited so long...I can’t...”

She wiped his cheeks and kissed him softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Oh, good.” He said, his voice relieved.

Hawke lay there stiffly, as this man she had only met hours before held her in a death grip. He whispered words of adoration in her ear, gentle words meant for her deceased cousin that she should never hear. Finally after some time, he began quietly snoring in her ear. Daylight was starting to break through the windows when Hawke closed her eyes.

At least I’m not alone, she told herself as sleep overcame her.


End file.
